


A Horrid Game

by CongressIsAliens



Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: AU, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Anything goes - Freeform, Bitter ending, Blood, But Mostly Hurt, Death, Established Relationship, Gay, Hunger Games, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Lots of that, Multi, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Suicide, This gon be cray, and y'know what?, don't yuck my yums, i'm out, last names are changed around to protect people, murder!, or whatever, seriously though this is a hunger games AU there will be murder, ship real people if you want to, there will be blood - Freeform, this fandom is toxic af, this is the internet, who gives a shit, yeah that, yeah this is not a fun story, you know that kindergarten saying, you know what - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CongressIsAliens/pseuds/CongressIsAliens
Summary: Grian and Mumbo Jumbo, eighteen years old and living in Panem's first district. The Games are coming around again.~~~This work has been abandoned and discontinued, in part due to fandom toxicity. This work will not be orphaned, however, I would like it if it did not receive any future comments.Thank you to everyone who supported this fic. If you would like, you can use this Hunger Games idea for your own, you can make a continuation if you want. As per everything that has been posted under CongressIsAliens, podfics, art, and translations are still open. You do not need to give credit.Hermitcraft was my obsessed-over fandom for a long time, but I no longer wish to be part of it.Be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hoo boy buckle up peeps this is gonna get crazy.

He had been training his whole life for this. Ever since he could hold a knife, he had been learning. Learning to hunt, to wound, to slash and stab and  _ kill _ . The other districts called them Careers, called them vicious, brutal, murderers. Some of them were. But others, like Grian, weren’t. 

Grian was physically ready, sure. Built strong, with muscles to spare. Speedy, after hours upon hours of training. Give him any weapon and he can slash a dummy in two. 

But mentally, he knew he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t kill a real human being. Even hurting another human hurt himself more. Hurting someone just like him. He had been taunted and mocked during training for even attempting to spare his opponents in the ring.

Having a coinsience in the training school wasn’t too bad, though. He had found a friend with his morals, and that more than made up for it. Mumbo Jumbo. With a full mustache at sixteen, Grian had found much in the taller boy. First a companion, at age four, to eat lunch with and tell stupid jokes. Then at age six, he got introduced to Mumbo’s friends, the Hermits, and he joined them. They were the best friends anyone could ask for. They pranked each other a lot (sometimes too much), but at the end of the day, they were all still friends. 

Then Grian and Mumbo were best friends, inseparable, having sleepovers on free nights, having deep discussions, competing with each other over who could lift more or run faster. And finally, after one emotional moment, Grian’s resolve snapped and he kissed Mumbo. To his everlasting surprise, Mumbo kissed back, and now here they were. 

Eighteen years old, heading into their last Reaping. All they had to do was make it past two o’clock, and they were home free. They could start working to make luxury goods for the Capitol, as was District One’s export, and maybe someday, Grian hoped, they’d get married. 

Grian steps up to the table where a lady with a sour expression sits. 

“Name?” she asks in a nasally voice. 

“Grian Blocksworth.”

Flipping to a page, she makes a check mark besides his name and looks closer. “It’s your last year in the Reaping. Seven entries. Congrats.” she says without emotion. “You know the drill. Boys eighteen. May the odds be ever in your favor.”

Grian walks down the center aisle, to the back, where all the eighteen year old boys stand. It’s mostly full, as it’s almost two, but Grian spots Mumbo almost instantly. He quickly walks over and grabs Mumbo’s hand. 

While it may be legal in Panem to be gay, many people in the districts either ignore that or outright oppose it. Neither Grian nor Mumbo mind it much, they just have to know when they can do what. In such a close space with so many, truly just holding hands is as much as they can do. 

Grian squeezes Mumbo’s hand three times, in their gesture that means “I love you”. 

Looking up at the podium, Grian sees the microphone at center stage, the line of chairs for the victors, but only one glass ball with paper. The ball is twice as big as usual, and the other ball looks to be nowhere in sight. 

The clock in the square chimes two. On cue, the mayor, escort, and former winners file out of the Justice Building and sit in the chairs. The mayor stands and introduces the eighty ninth annual Hunger Games. 

He tells of the history of Panem. The rebellion, the Quarter Quells, and the failed Second Rebellion. How lucky it is that the Capitol protected the Districts from the awful rebels. How wonderful the Capitol is. How President Snow stopped it all, and when he died, how kind President Carmil was to take his place. The list of pre-Second victors, all of them dead, and the list of post-Second victors for District One, of which there are three. 

Grian doesn’t really believe any of it, but as long as there’s food on his family’s table and a roof over their head, he doesn’t question it. 

The mayor continues. There will be a new rule this year, he announces. “The new rule is, is all names have been combined into one ball. Two will still be selected, but anyone is eligible twice.” 

An uneasy murmur passes through the crowd. Two chances for any child standing in the square to be chosen. Two chances for Grian to be chosen- two chances for Mumbo to be chosen. 

The District One escort, a kindly woman named Margie, stands and takes the microphone. Tapping it, it emits a horrible shriek, but Margie continues on. Clearing her throat, she puts one hand in the ball of names and shuffles around. 

“Let’s get right to it, shall we?” she says. Margie has always been no-nonsense with the Reapings. Pulling out a slip, she unfolds it and reads it. A breath in, and- “Madison Kilpatrik.” 

Grian lets out a small breath, before seeing Madison. She’s dressed in her finest dress, and Grian can see her shaking as she walks up to the stage. Madison is like the little sister of the whole District. She lives in the community home, and she’s just twelve. Grian can’t help but think it’s so  _ unfair _ that someone like Madison was chosen. 

Margie walks back to the ball, swirls her hand again, pulls out another slip of paper, and unfolds it. 

She reads it out, and Grian’s heart sinks. It’s not him. 

It’s Mumbo. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: suicide mentions

Mumbo takes a deep, resigned breath in, then takes a step towards the stage. Grian’s seeing red. First little Madison, then Mumbo. But what else can he do? The Capitol has crushed two rebellions thus far- he can’t just up and leave either. 

Grian steps towards Mumbo and spins him towards himself. He pulls Mumbo in and kisses him crushingly on the lips, pouring every emotion he can think of and more into it, because will he ever see Mumbo again after today?

After a few seconds, Mumbo breaks off their kiss with a whispered “I love you” and turns to ascend the stage. Grian stares after him, broken, before an idea comes to him. 

It’s an honor to volunteer for the Games in District One. To prove yourself before certain death. Certainly someone will volunteer for Mumbo- right? 

“Are there any volunteers?” Margie asks. 

The square is silent. Not even a single bird chirps, not even the wind announces its presence. An eternity passes silently, a rare first for District One. 

“Well then. Your tributes for District one-” 

“Wait!” Grian shouts, stepping into the aisle. “I volunteer as tribute!”

Margie looks unsurprised. “Very well, which tribute are you replacing?” she asks. 

Grian looks at Mumbo. Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head, then subtly points at Madison. Looking over at Madison, Grian can see why Mumbo wouldn’t want to be replaced. Madison would die in the arena. She couldn’t kill, couldn’t live. At least if they’re both in the arena, one of them has a chance of coming home, and Grian’s already planning on it being Mumbo. 

“Madison Kilpatrik.” he says confidently, and a hush washes over the crowd. 

Now Margie looks more surprised. “And your name is?” she says unflinchingly. 

“Grian Blocksworth.”

“Take your place, Grian. You may go, Madison.” 

Grian walks down the aisle and takes his place on the stage.

“Are there any last volunteers?” Margie asks again. When the silence again settles down upon the square, she takes that as her answer. 

“Your District One tributes for the Eighty-Ninth Hunger Games, Mumbo Jumbo and Grian Blocksworth.”

She turns and sits down upon her chair, and the mayor stands to recite the mind-numbing Treaty of Treason. 

Twenty minutes later, he finishes, and motions for Grian and Mumbo to shake hands, as the new tributes traditionally do. 

Then everyone on stage stands and the anthem plays, and Grian and Mumbo are ushered into the Justice Building to say their goodbyes. 

Grian’s mother, father, and sister are the first in. Sitting on the couch opposite Grian’s chair, they sit in awkward silence for a few moments. No one really says anything. 

“I couldn’t protect both of us, but I’ll try to bring him home.” Grian eventually says when the Peacekeepers come in. Grian’s mother, who’s been quietly crying the whole time, nods and stands. Grian stands with her and embraces her. The rest of Grian’s family follows suit.

“I guess this is goodbye. I love you guys. Thank you- thank you for everything.” He turns to his eleven year old sister. “Stay out of trouble. Make me proud.” Silana nods. They walk out of the room with the peacekeepers, and then the Hermits walk in. 

To their credit, not a one of them is shedding a tear. Xisuma, their unofficial leader, stands in front of Grian. 

“Let me guess, you’re going to bring him home?” he asks. 

“Any way I can.” Grian replies. 

“You know we would have volunteered for you if we weren’t too old.” Scar says. It’s true, he and Mumbo are the youngest of the group. All the others are all nineteen, twenty, twenty one. 

“Take this. Your token.” A quieter member of their group, Joe Hills, says, pressing a small piece of wood with twine into Grian’s hand. 

Grian looks down at it. A small square of wood, no bigger than an inch wide or long, with an image of a chicken burnt into it. Two holes, on opposite sides, with twine threaded through to make a bracelet. 

“Poultry Man.”

“Yep.”

When they were younger, they used to play superheroes during play time. Grian was always Poultry Man, a hero that threw “eggs”, which were actually balls of paper. He always denied being Poultry Man, always claiming it was the man in the chicken costume. 

And they had remembered. 

Grian slips the bracelet onto his left wrist. “Thanks, guys.” False hugs Grian tightly, then Iskall joins in, then all the rest of the Hermits are joining and clinging to Grian. 

They split apart, and Python is the first to speak. “So you’re not coming home?”

“No,” Grian says. “I’m going to send Mumbo home. Any way possible.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why?” Python asks. “Why not volunteer for him?”

“B-because I didn’t want Madison to die in that arena, I didn’t want to ever watch Mumbo kill, I don’t ever want to think about him not coming home.” Grian breaks down, starting to cry. 

“There’s no way that could ever be an easy decision. Take care of him. Goodbye, Grian.” Xisuma says. 

“Goodbye, you guys.” Grian says, and slowly the Hermits file out of the room. 

Grian collapses on one of the green velvet chairs, turning the bracelet around and around his wrist. 

Slowly the door creaks open and the girl from the reaping- Madison- enters. 

Grian stands up, and she runs to hug him. She’s been crying, he can tell. She doesn’t say anything, but Grian can tell she’s thankful, the fact that she even came to say goodbye to him means more than any words. 

Madison eventually releases him, and steps back. “You’re going to come home, right?” she says hopefully. 

“No, I can’t.” he says, and when Madison gives him a look of confusion, he continues. “You remember the man with the mustache who got called too? Mumbo Jumbo? He’s my boyfriend, we’ve been together for a very long time. I don’t think I could ever live with it if he died and I didn’t. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he comes home.”

“That’s really kind of you, but what about him? Won’t he be sad that you won’t come home?”

“He will be. I just think he might be able to live through it, live with it, more than I can.”

“Oh.”

“You might understand more when you get older. Stay safe, Madison.” Grian says as the peacekeeper walks in and takes her outside. Again, Grian is left alone with his thoughts. 

It’s not like he wants to be in the Games, far from it. He just wants to keep Mumbo safe, and when that means taking a knife, sword, arrow, even a sharp stick into the deepest corner of the arena and offing himself so he doesn’t have to kill him, that’s what he’ll do. 

He doesn’t want to do it, but if he has to he will. 

The thought chills him to his core. 

The peacekeeper walks back into the room and gestures for Grian to follow him. Grian does, and soon they’re riding down the elevator, walking the block to the train station, walking up to the train. 

Mumbo is waiting for him, his face red and puffy, tears still welling up in his eyes. Without a word, Grian embraces Mumbo in a tight hug, which is quickly reciprocated. 

The cameras surrounding them eat it up, but eventually Margie and their mentors, Trinity and Shay, split them apart gently and they turn to board the train. 

Right inside the train’s doors, Grian and Mumbo turn around and grasp hands, Mumbo’s left in Grian’s right. 

Before the doors close, Grian does something unthinkable, something that’s been banned due to the Second Rebellion, something to tell everyone that knows who he’s fighting for, who he’s going to die for, his disgust for the fact he’s even in this scenario.

He raises the first three fingers of his left hand to his lips, then out, in perfect silence.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Making this only availible to registered users bc my mom thinks she can find it (she asked what I was writing, I didn't want to say more than fanfic, LOL). Other than that, should be normal. 
> 
> Updates might be slower in the near future due to a family road trip next week and then band camp after that.

Almost immediately after Grian lifts his arm, he and Mumbo are unceremoniously pulled into the train and the doors shut. 

“What were you  _ thinking,  _ Grian?” Margie says. 

“I was just mad, and- oh no, my sister!” Grian says. “They’re going to take her- what have I done?” He sits heavily on one of the couches and buries his head in his hands. “I thought I was untouchable- but she isn’t. Oh no, no, no.”

“She’ll be fine.” Trinity Kelk says. She and Shay Hendersen are their mentors for the games. 

“No- no, you don’t understand. The Capitol will take her- and mom, and dad, and the Hermits too! I’ve- I’ve just given them a death sentence!” Grian’s sobbing by now, and Mumbo’s sat next to him, holding him as he cries. The train starts to pull away from the station. 

“No, seriously, she’ll be fine. You know how you all learn almost nothing about the second rebellion except that all the mockingjays are now dead and that symbol’s taboo? Yeah, they’d have to tell people why it’s bad to get any real impact, and killing your family would also be real bad for press. They might have slightly smaller or moldier rations for a bit, but your friends seem like nice people, so they’ll take care of her. Besides, no one ever actually watches the train scenes, it’s always right on to the next reaping. Boom. Your family is safe.” Trinity explains. 

“Really?” Grian asks, lifting his head. 

“Really.” Trinity says. “Trust me, I think the Capitol hates me now. I do everything they hate and they can’t hurt me. I don’t have anyone they can hurt anyway, let ‘em try.” She laughs. 

“That’s...kind of sad, actually.” Mumbo says. 

“I grew up in the community home, what did you expect? I was never gonna be likeable.”

“I suppose.” Grian says. “Sorry you got stuck with the least bloodthirsty tributes District One has ever had.” 

“It’s alright, man, you do you.” Shay finally speaks. He’s a chill guy, soft spoken but Grian knows he’s won a Hunger Games, so who knows what he’s like under pressure. 

Mumbo grabs two apples from the snack table and hands one to Grian. 

The train car is filled with quiet. Comfortably awkward. 

Eventually the Capitol comes into view, and Grian can’t help but turn to look at it. 

It’s gorgeous, with its skyscrapers made of pristine material, the shorter candy-colored buildings nearby polished to a shine. But Grian knows that under the mask of purity lies people with horrifying modifications, people who abhor looking natural, people who do nothing but feast on luxurious food, people who willingly send children to die for entertainment. 

As the train rockets towards the Capitol, Margie finally speaks. Her voice is much kinder than it was at the reaping. 

“Tonight is just dinner, then watching the recap of the Reapings,” she says. “You’ll also meet your stylists, who I’m told are new this year. Tomorrow, you will be prepped for the chariots. Let the stylists do what they want, however, if there is anything you want or do not want, tell me now because my voice will count now.”

Grian has nothing particular in mind for himself, but- 

“I’m keeping my mustache.” Mumbo says matter-of-factly. Grian knows what Mumbo looks like without his mustache- he shaved it one morning on a dare from Iskall- and it’s not pretty. Besides, it grows back freakishly fast, as in it was already half back by seven PM.

The train pulls through the Capitol, and when Grian looks out the window he can see how the citizens point excitedly at the first tribute train of the Games. 

The District One train is always the first train to arrive, given the district’s proximity to the Capitol. Districts Two, and oddly, Nine. The rest all arrive early the next day. The train pulls into the station, where a cameraman sits in wait. 

Grian, Mumbo, Margie, Trinity, and Shay are all escorted down the platform to a car, then down the street to the Tribute Center. A huge building, Grian feels  _ very _ small in comparison. They’re put into an elevator that whisks them up to the floor for District One, their home for the next week or so. 

Their floor is tastefully decorated, with a dining area up in the right corner, a seating area around a television on a wall to the left, and a small seating area in between. All with plenty of room around. Down the hall to their left, rooms labelled for Grian, Mumbo, Trinity, Shay, and Margie are all in a row, next to a room for Capitol attendants in case they should want for anything. 

The whole place is shining and should be inviting, but all Grian can think about is the sad reason why it’s only occupied for a few days each year. 

The elevator behind them opens and two tall men walk out. They introduce themselves as Matthew and Nolan, their stylists. Some small talk and banter, then Shay notices that dinner has been set out for them. 

It’s nearing six thirty, so the whole group sits down to eat. The food is much more decadent than in the district. Although everyone in District One has enough to eat, the food is very plain and sometimes barely stomachable. Not so in the Capitol with its endless luxuries. 

During dinner, Matthew casually asks if Grian has been to the roof yet. Grian takes that as a request for them to make themselves scarce after dinner, so he says he has not, and asks Mumbo if he’d like to go up after dinner. 

Mumbo takes him up on it, so after the sticky pudding is served (he’s told it’s a flavor called toffee), the two take the elevator up to the roof. 

The lights of the Capitol recede as the elevator shoots them up to the roof, the car silent as a tomb. 

When the doors open onto the roof, they open on a gorgeous garden. There seems to be no one else around, so Grian suggests they walk around. 

Nothing is perfect in this garden. The flowers are off color, some missing petals. The leaves are different shapes, the trees have knotholes. In the middle of the garden, there’s a small bench with chipped paint under a stunted apple tree. 

“Who would have thought.” Mumbo says as they sit down next to each other. The bench was not built for two people of Grian and Mumbo’s build, so Grian’s almost sitting in Mumbo’s lap. 

“Thought what?” Grian asks. 

“That there would be any natural beauty in the Capitol. Forget that, the fact we would even be in the Capitol.”

“I wish I wasn’t here.” Grian says dejectedly. 

“Me too, Gri, me too.” Mumbo says before noticing Grian’s bracelet. “What’s that?”

“My personal token. Joe gave it to me.”

Mumbo examines it closer. “Poultry man, huh?”

“The boy in the chicken costume.” Grian subconsciously corrects. “What’s your token?”

Mumbo loosens his tie, then unbuttons the top of his dress shirt. “This.” he says simply, pulling out a delicate necklace made of silver chain, with a red ribbon run through the thin links. A small pendant has a sword and shield symbol on it. 

“That’s gorgeous.” Grian says. 

“It used to be a symbol of royalty.” Mumbo explains. “The mayor gave it to me, said it had been the men’s tribute token since the first Hunger Games.”   


“That’s a long time.”

“I know.” They sit in quiet, Mumbo putting his arm around Grians shoulder and Grian leaning in. 

“You know only one of us can go home, yes?” Grian says. 

“I know. Let’s worry about that later, alright? I want to spend what time we’ve got together without worrying.” 

“Okay.” Grian says before reburying his face in Mumbo’s chest. 

Mumbo hugs Grian tight to him. “Grian,” he quietly says, “if we had escaped the reaping, do you think…”

“Think what?” 

“Doyouthinkyouwouldhavemarriedme?” Mumbo says all in a rush.

“Yes.” Grian says almost immediately. 

“Really?” Mumbo asks. 

“Absolutely.” he says. “In fact…” he says, looking up at the apple tree above them. 

In District One, the marriage tradition is much different from where they exchange jewels in the Capitol. In District One, the happy couple signs a form at the Justice Building, has a small gathering, and as they enter their new home, they each break a twig and exchange the halves with each other, signifying that two halves make a whole. 

“Now” Mumbo asks. 

“I doubt there will be a better time.” Grian says, snapping two small twigs off the tree above them, handing one to Mumbo. 

Mumbo smiles as he accepts the branch. “On three, alright?”

“Alright. One, two,” Grian counts, “Three.” They break their branches in half at the same time.    


Grian hands his half to Mumbo, reciting the lines every district member learns from their parents. 

“With this branch, I give you my love, my loyalty, my devotion. I give my half to you knowing you make me whole.”

Mumbo hands his branch to Grian. “With this branch, I too give you my love, my loyalty, and my devotion. I give my half to you knowing you make me whole.” 

They kiss for the first time since the reaping, but this time it’s slow and sweet and they know they have all the time they need to say everything they can’t with words. A tear leaks out of Grian’s eye as they kiss and slowly rolls down his face, but this time it’s a tear of joy. 

Footsteps on the path alert them to another’s presence, and when they part, panting slightly, they see it’s Trinity. 

“The recap of the Reaping is on in ten minutes, it’s time to come in.” she says. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: none

After Grian and Mumbo take their branches to their rooms, they sit down on one of the couches around the television. Grian grabs a small notebook from the table, kicks off his shoes, he curls up next to Mumbo, who puts an arm protectively over his shoulder. 

“Writing the names down?” he asks softly. 

“I don’t want to forget a single one of them.” Grian says. 

“Very sensible.” 

The anthem plays, then Claudius Templesmith and Cesar Flickerman, the announcers of the Games, introduce the eighty ninth annual Hunger Games. They announce the new rule of the Reaping with practiced ease, then a smash cut right into the Reaping of District One. 

The commentators make short quips about Madison, then sigh sadly as Mumbo is called and Grian kisses him goodbye. They are surprised at the lack of volunteers- then Grian does. Grian can hear the desperation in his voice as he holds his hand out to volunteer for Madison, to which the commentators make sympathetic noises for Grian and Mumbo, the couple that cannot be. 

District Two, one of the other two Career districts, has no shortage of volunteers. The final choices end up being two girls- a shorter one named Katie with some inexplicable emotion in her eyes, and Kaitlyn, a taller one with a kind face. 

Tributes with glasses, Margie explains, usually get corrective surgery the moment they arrive in the Capitol, so they don’t have to worry during the Games. 

District Three has one volunteer, a stocky boy named Levi that is very quiet, and a person that Grian can’t really tell their gender, named Lyn. 

District Four has a similar volunteer situation to District Two, where there are so many it’s almost impossible to decide. It ends up being a smiling girl named Emmie and a red faced boy named Alex. The boy also has glasses. 

District Five brings a completely average looking boy and girl, named Caleb and Hannah respectively. Hannah wears glasses. 

A surly girl named Kyra and an amicable boy named Britain are District Six’s tributes. Neither of them are special in any way. 

A strong looking boy named Cas volunteers in District Seven, and a boy who looks like he’s on some sort of drugs named Kamal make up District Seven. 

District Eight presents two similarly built boys named Eric and Arresteo. While Arresteo is shaking and scared looking, Eric has an iron glare focused on the mayor of Eight the whole time. 

Two tall, slender girls are District Nine’s tributes, a confident volunteer named Emily and a frightened one named Miriam. Miriam has thick, round glasses. 

District Ten’s tributes are twins, Autumn and Ash Buckeye. Both are thoroughly unimpressive, however, Grian’s not stupid. He can see the way their eyes gleam when they are announced as the tributes. 

A pair of boys that look like they have never been fed right, Gabin and Trey, are the District Eleven tributes. Gabin also wears glasses, wiry ones that looked scratched and beat up. 

Finally, a pair of scared twelve year olds round out the reaping for District Twelve. Lane Lewisa, the mayor’s daughter, and Wesley Carminchal. Wesley wears glasses as well, although they look much too big for his face. 

The anthem plays again after the announcers wish everyone a happy Hunger Games. 

Grian sets the notebook down on the low table.

“It looks like your enemies will be Districts Three and Eight, although Six looks possible, and I certainly wouldn’t count out Two and Ten.” Shay says as the television turns off. 

“That shorter girl- Katie- from Two, she looked like she was ready to murder someone point-blank.” Trinity adds. 

“The twins from Ten are really creepy.” Grian says. 

“They really are.” Mumbo agrees. “You get the feeling they don’t want anyone else around- and that they’d kill anyone that would disturb them.”

A pause fills the room with silence. Outside, the sun has set, but the lights of the Capitol keep everything bright as day. 

“You two should get some sleep.” Margie says. “You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

Grian and Mumbo make agreeing noises and head down the hallway to their rooms. 

“See you on the chariots, Gri.” Mumbo says, kissing Grian softly, before stepping into his room. Grian turns into his own room, closing the door and shutting off the light. He doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas before climbing into bed and falling asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter, but I needed some way to put in all the tributes. Last chapter for a while, although I might type one up on my phone and post it on the road. (good thing I'm not driving lol)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: None

Grian stands next to the carriage of District One, his hand obsessively running through the mane of the horse next to him. The black of his glove stands out in stark contrast to the shimmering white hair of the horse. 

Grian’s wearing what Matthew, his stylist, is calling a marvel of engineering, although he doesn’t see why. 

Tight, knee high black boots with silver toes and top, loose black pants with a silver belt, a black button up shirt with silver buttons, black elbow length gloves over the sleeves studded randomly with rainbow gems, a sash covered in rainbow gems, and a black cape with a silver chain, with rainbow gems up the back. 

It’s gorgeous, sure, but Grian doesn’t know how it’s an ‘engineering marvel’. 

Nolan and Mumbo arrive at the carriage. It looks like Mumbo is wearing the same thing as Grian. 

“Hey there.” Mumbo says, resting his arm on Grian’s shoulder. 

“Hey yourself.” Grian says, a smile forming on his face. 

“These outfits are pretty cool, huh?” 

“Absolutely. Well, maybe not literally,” Grian fans himself for emphasis, as the costumes are sweltering even in the rapidly cooling air, “but they do look pretty snazzy.” 

“It is odd that they’re black, considering that District One is usually associated with marble and silver and pure white.”

“When you guys get on that carriage,” Nolan interrupts, “hold hands. The Capitol will eat that up. Then, when you get out the doors, count to three and hold your hands above your head.” 

“Both our hands, or just the ones we’re holding?” Mumbo asks. 

“Just the inside ones. But not until those doors open!”

“Right.” Grian says. 

Matthew walks up from where he was fixing a rose on the horses and claps Grian on the back. “Good luck. Don’t fall off.”

Mumbo laughs. “Don’t worry, we won’t.”

“Seriously, I’ve seen people fall off.” This only prompts Mumbo to laugh harder.

“I bet you my dessert that the Camel or whatever boy from Seven falls off tonight.” Grian says, cracking up. 

A chime rings in the stable, and the large doors start to open. Loud, earthshaking music fills the air. 

“That’s your cue!” Nolan shouts, barely able to be heard over the music and clamor of the crowd just outside the doors. Grian and Mumbo quickly clamber up into the carriage, grasping hands. 

On some hidden signal, the horses begin to move, the carriage with them. 

As the horses clop into the open air, Mumbo quietly counts to three, and when he says three they raise their hands to a cheer from the Capitol. 

As they ride down the main Capitol thoroughfare, Grian catches a glimpse of himself on one of the screens- and his glove wasn’t white before, was it? He looks up towards his hands, and he can’t believe his eyes. 

The black fabric is changing, practically melting away to reveal bright white fabric. The gemstones are still attached, sparkling even brighter on the white background. As Grian watches, mesmerized, his whole sleeve starts turning. 

By the time the carriage reaches the City Circle, his outfit has changed completely to paper-white. 

President Carmil steps up to her podium, raising one hand for silence. 

“Welcome, welcome, welcome tributes, to the exhilarating Eighty Ninth Hunger Games! This Games proves to be a rather exciting one, don’t you think?”

The Capitol roars its approval. Looking around, Grian can see the area is packed. Cameras pack every balcony, the rows of stands that line the street are stuffed with citizens, every person in all of Panem has their eyes on the tributes. 

“Well then, we ought to let our tributes train up for the biggest event of the year! Tributes, you are dismissed. May the odds be  _ ever _ in your favor.” the President says, and the carriages turn around as the Capitol cheers. The anthem plays again, louder than before, as the carriages pull into the stable and the doors shut behind District Twelve. 

Almost immediately, Matthew and Nolan are upon them, showering them in praise. Quickly, they’re shuffled over to the elevators where Grian and Mumbo end up with the tributes from District Two, Katie and Kaitlyn. No one says anything as the elevator smoothly ascends. 

That is, until it doesn’t. The elevator halts jarringly, scaring all four of them out of their skin. The button panel sparks, then the elevator goes dark, the light replaced with a single red emergency light. 

Katie swears loudly and punches the panel. It dents slightly. 

“Stupid Capitol bringing us here to slaughter us in their stupid Games and then trapping us in this stupid elevator. Can’t they just execute us already?” she rants, flailing her arms about. Grian has to duck to avoid getting hit. 

Kaitlyn puts a calming hand on Katie’s shoulder. 

“There’s no reason to be ma-” she says gently before being cut off. 

“There’s lots of reasons to be mad! We’re all going to our  _ death _ in a week and they’re parading it like a goddamn celebration! Why wouldn’t I be mad?” Katie screams, . 

“If you would listen, I said that there’s no reason to be mad at the  _ elevator _ . But you can’t let this get you down. Go out how you want, or don’t go out at all. Only you can say that.” 

Katie slumps to the ground, her silver dress pooling around her knees. “Sorry, guys.” she says to Mumbo and Grian. 

“It’s alright.” Grian says. The elevator is quiet for a few moments. 

Kaitlyn hugs herself. “Nobody told me these costumes would be so cold. Damn.” The girls’ silver dresses are made of a flowing fabric, with plunging backs and necklines, with no sleeves. 

Grian and Mumbo both undo the silver chains of their capes and hand them to the girls. Their costumes are still too hot, so they’re glad to be rid of them. 

“You sure?” Katie asks. 

“Oh yeah. These things are way too hot.” Mumbo says. 

Kaitlyn sits down next to Katie. Grian and Mumbo also decide to sit down, leaning back against the wall of the elevator, which still hasn’t moved. 

“Shouldn’t be too long now, I think.” Mumbo says. 

“I hope not.” Katie says, letting the silence descend again. 

“If it means anything, I really liked your costumes.” Kaitlyn says eventually. 

“Yeah, they were mesmerizing. You guys have some excellent stylists.” Katie agrees. 

“I really couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I looked up, and my arm was bright white. Weird for me too.” Grian says. 

The elevator lurches. All four of them scramble to their feet, but lurching is all the elevator does. Grian slumps back against the wall, sighing. 

“Hey, Gri. don’t worry. It’ll be alright.” Mumbo says, putting an arm over Grian’s shoulders. 

“If only.” Grian sighs again, wishing he could just be at home, wishing he wasn’t there. 

“Hey, we’re not in the games yet.”   


Grian slowly relaxes into Mumbo’s shoulder. 

“It’s really a shame you two are in the games together.” Katie says. “Why’d you even volunteer for that girl? No offense, but Mumbo could have just won the games and gone home.” 

“Insensitive!” Kaitlyn hisses, elbowing Katie. 

“I had to do something.” Grian says. “If Madison had gone in she would have died. If I went in for her, she would be safe. Mumbo, well, he’s much more popular, well liked. I was certain that someone would have volunteered for him. Obviously, no one did.”

“Then who’s going home?” Katie asks, even as Kaitlyn jabs her again. 

“Grian.” Mumbo says at the same time as Grian says “Mumbo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! 
> 
> First person to guess which character is me gets a shoutout :)
> 
> https://i.imgur.com/FNqfTVu.png (the outfit, badly scanned)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Self harm, mental instability
> 
> Ack! Sorry for the late chapter! Band camp kinda got in the way, but it finished last week, so I had writing time this week. Next week school starts, so I'll be able to upload (possibly) during my boring classes. 
> 
> So yeah, faster updates soon hopefully :)
> 
> (Also band camp was really fun, we got through all our show music and about half the drill for our show! It's called Dance Like No One is Watching, and the music is Danzon no 2, Libertango, and Iberia! I even got into the flute duet in the opener! Also my crush is in the pit and I get to watch her a lot, ha ha.)

“Oh dear.” The only thing said hangs in the air like a raincloud. “Oh dear.” Kaitlyn repeats. 

The elevator lurches to life, ascending smoothly upwards like nothing happened. The doors open. Grian and Mumbo walk out onto their floor.

“Hey.” Katie says. Grian and Mumbo turn back. “See you in training.”

“See you.” Grian says, and the doors close. 

The rest of their team is already eating, so Grian and Mumbo sit down with them, not bothering to change. 

“What happened? What took you so long?” Margie asks around a mouthful of food. 

“The elevator broke.” Mumbo says, spooning peas onto his plate. 

“We got stuck with District Two.” Grian elaborates. “They’re actually nice people.”

“Everyone’s nice until the gong sounds.” Trinity says, her voice shaking almost imperceptibly. 

No one quite knows what to say to that. It’s true, Grian will admit. He remembers a girl from a few years ago, District Four, who was the epitome of innocence. 

She killed six tributes on the first day. 

Eventually, Grian breaks the silence. “So, um, how did you manage to do the color changing thing with the suits?” he asks the stylists. 

Matthew’s face lights up. “So, the suits are basically woven thin but sturdy tubes with chemicals inside. That’s why it took so long to get dressed, we had to connect everything. When you joined hands, the chemicals in your suits mixed, causing a color change.”

“We actually spent most of the year working on that costume.” Nolan adds. 

“It certainly shows.” Shay says. 

When Mumbo and Grian watch the rerun of the chariot rides, Grian is surprised at how fluid the color change is. It’s as if he was just dipped in paint. The other costumes are relatively plain comparatively. Sure, the dresses of Two and Nine are pretty, and Eight’s mulitcolored suits are striking, but nobody’s quite got the pop of a color changing outfit.

To no one’s surprise, the one boy from Seven falls off almost as soon as the carriage is out of the gate.

“You both have training tomorrow.” Margie reminds Grian and Mumbo as soon as the program is over. “We’ll discuss training strategies in the morning. Training clothes are on your dressers, wear those tomorrow morning.” she says, turning off the television and walking out of the room, to her room on the floor. Trinity and Shay follow. 

Not long after that, Matthew and Nolan leave down the elevators, already planning the interview costumes, leaving Grian and Mumbo alone. 

Grian and Mumbo stay in the living room together for a few moments longer before they go back to their rooms. 

In his room, Grian showers off the makeup that coats his face, then changes into fluffy pajamas. He manages to not fall asleep on top of his covers, tucking himself in before passing out. 

In the morning, a knock on the door wakes Grian up. He quickly splashes water on his face, stumbling over the costume from last night. He changes into his training clothes of loose black pants, black boots, and a loose light blue top. 

Walking down the hall, Grian meets Mumbo. He’s dressed identically to Grian, down to the same shade of blue on his shirt. They walk into the dining room and sit by Margie, who’s already making notes in a thick notebook. 

Trinity is the last to arrive. Mattew and Nolan are missing, but Grian knows they’re already busy designing the costumes for the interview. 

“Do either of you have any secret skills?” Margie asks through a bite of eggs.

“Nope.” Grian says. “We’ve trained together since age four, we know everything about each other.”  
  
“I mean, we have our specialties, but that’s it.” Mumbo says. 

“Good.” Margie says, writing furiously in her notebook. “Don’t do the specialty until your time with the Gamemakers.” 

“So then what are we supposed to do?” Grian asks. 

“Learn to survive.”   


“And what does that mean?” Mumbo asks. 

“Make fires. Tie knots. Identify plants. Learn to fish. Climb trees. Camouflage. Learn to survive.” Margie states as if it were obvious. 

“Oh. Okay. Any other tips?” Mumbo asks. 

“Be friendly. Gain some trust, learn who might be an ally- or at least spare you- in the arena.” Margie says. 

“YOU CAN’T TRUST ANYONE.” Trinity booms, slamming the table.

“Trinity, calm down.” Shay says. 

“Calm down? Calm DOWN? They’re going to go kill out there. We know only one of them is coming back. They’re going to kill the friends they make.” Grian ducks as Trinity swings her arms. “Why must I be a mentor to the horrid games these are?” Trinity rants as she starts to pace. “What’s stopping me from ending this?” A juice glass smashes on the wall just inches from Mumbo’s face. “What’s stopping me from going and killing President Carmil right now? Or YOU?” Trinity brandishes a butter knife, pointing it at Margie, then Grian, then Mumbo. 

Shay pushes away from the table, throwing an arm around Trinity’s torso. Bringing her down to the ground, he points to the elevators. “Go. Now.” Grian grabs Mumbo’s hand and runs into one of the elevators. As the doors close, Grian can see Peacekeepers charge out of the other elevator. 

No one else is on the elevator with them. 

“You okay?” Mumbo asks, bringing Grian close to him. 

“Not really.” Grian sighs, leaning on Mumbo. 

“Yeah, that was weird.” Mumbo runs his hand through Grian’s hair. 

The doors open onto the training floor. A fabric number one is pinned onto each of their backs. They’re the only ones on the floor, until at long last, District Four and Five show up. The rest of the tributes follow soon after. 

District Seven is unsurprisingly the last group to show up. 

Atilla, the head trainer, introduces each station. Survival on one side, mostly, and weapons on the other. 

“So where would you like to visit first?” Grian asks, watching as the other tributes make a beeline for the weapons. 

“Let’s identify plants."

“That sounds good."

The trainer is surprised to see District One tributes, but he quickly recovers. By noon, Grian can identify most common plants and some rarer, unique ones. 

The rest of the three days of training pass similarly. They learn new skills, make small talk, and completely avoid the weapons. 

After lunch on the third day, every tribute pulls a number from a hat. The numbers will be used for the judging and the interview. A step implemented after the Second Rebellion, it’s to ensure no one gets a disadvantage due to boredom. Grian pulls number nine, Mumbo pulls twenty-four. Dead last. 

When Grian is eventually called in, Mumbo gives him a peck on the cheek and wishes him luck. 

Grian’s steps echo on the training floor. The training stations have been shoved aside, leaving just the bare concrete. The Gamemakers sit at their table, huge plates of food in front of them. Not a single wine glass is full. 

Grian never thought about what he would do, but knives seem like a good option. He strides over to the knife station. He picks up each type of knife, weighing it in his hands. He’s specialized in knives since they were allowed to specialize, so he knows what he prefers. 

Suddenly. An idea. He straps two knives on his waist, one on his right calf, and a short dagger on his left arm. He jogs lightly to the fire station, quickly building and lighting a small fire. He places one of his waist blades in the fire, leaving the handle out. He sits still by the fire until one of the Gamemakers speaks. 

“You are dis-” he starts, but Grian doesn’t let him finish. He stands, pivots, and throws the other knife from his waist clear across the room. It hits the knife target right in its head. Pulling the knife from his calf, he slashes at the air for a moment before sticking the knife in the bullseye of the archery target. The knife on his upper arm severs the climbing net. 

Grian picks up the knife from the fire. Breathing hard, he stares defiantly up at the Gamemakers. He shakes his sleeve up his arm. Without thinking, he presses the red hot blade of his knife against his arm and slides it. 

The wound screams but Grian doesn’t listen. Unflinchingly, he throws the knife into the tree for tree climbing, sticking it in a high branch. 

He doesn’t even stick around. He leaves, shoving aside an Avox to get in the elevator. 

On his District floor, he makes a fast stop at the attendant’s room for bandages and medicine, then retreats to his room. 

Almost two hours later, a soft knock on the door brings him out of his apathetic state. “Come in.”

A concerned Mumbo enters the room. Grian’s been laying on his bed, not even bothering to change clothes, so the sight of Mumbo makes him feel awful. 

“Are you okay?” Mumbo asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Grian gets up and crosses to the dresser, pulling out an orange shirt. 

“I did something stupid.” Grian says, hanging his head. 

Mumbo laughs. “I assure you, you didn’t do anything nearly as stupid as what I did.”

Grian chuckles darkly. “Really.”

“Really. Nothing can get quite as stupid as attempting to juggle swords.”

“You actually did that.”

“I had to impress them somehow after my spearthrowing failed to!”

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“Only a few scrapes.”

Grian rushes right to Mumbo’s side. “Hey, easy there. There’s only this one on my arm, and this one on my calf. Barely even scratches.”

“Okay. You know I worry about you.” Grian says, returning to the dresser. He pulls off his training shirt in one fluid motion. 

“Grian- what happened?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How has time flown so fast? Jesus, I need to write more. I promise we'll eventually get to the games!
> 
> TW: Mental instablity, death mentions, self harm mentions

“Grian- what happened?”

“What...happened? What do you mean?”

“You’re hurt!”

“Oh, that.” Grian shrugs. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? You’re bandaged up.”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” Grian looks down, not wanting to meet Mumbo’s eyes. 

“Grian. Look at me.” Grian reluctantly looks into Mumbo’s eyes. “What happened?”

Grian sits heavily on the bed next to Mumbo. “In the training room, I made a fire and put one of the knives in. I threw the rest of the knives around, but I burnt myself on the last one.”

Mumbo puts an arm around Grian’s shoulder. “At least it was an accident.”

Grian shoves off Mumbo’s arm and turns away. “It wasn’t an accident.”

“What? What do you mean?” Mumbo asks, recoiling in shock. 

“I mean, I took the knife out of the fire and I pressed it to my skin. I burnt myself, and it wasn’t an accident.” Grian practically spits the words out. 

Silence hangs in the air like a cloud. Grian walks over to the window, pulling on his shirt. 

“Why?” Mumbo whispers.

“They don’t own me. I needed to show them.”

“And you hurt yourself?”

“It felt good.”

“It felt good- Grian, what?”

“It felt good. I was in control. They don’t own me. I’m not going home anyway- what’s the damage?”

“Sit down. We’re going to talk.”

“About what? There’s nothing to be talked about. You’re going home.” Grian sits down on the bed next to Mumbo. 

“Look, it’s an awful situation. But you’re going to go home. You should go home. Be the brave hero.” Mumbo says, grabbing onto Grian’s hands. 

“Why am I worth more than you? How? I understand we can’t go home together, but what about you? You’re amazing. You’re a truly gifted engineer. When you go home, you’ll help others. Make lives better. Me? If I go home, I’ll sit and rot!” Grian’s voice practically rises to a shout. 

“No you won’t. You’ll design buildings. You won’t rot, you’ll be a great architect!”

“You know nobody has used my designs. Scoffs them as frivolous. No one likes me. You, the Hermits, and my parents are the only people that can even stand me, and the Hermits will hate me if you don’t come home. You’ve always been the better friend. You’ll be the shining star of the district.”

“Do it for me, Grian.” Mumbo begs. “If for no one else. I couldn’t stand being without you. And I think people will miss you more than you think.”

“Trust me, Mumbo. I’m better off dead a hero than alive a waste.”

“But you wouldn’t be a waste.”

“Then don’t think about the person level. Think about the Capitol’s impression. I’ve always been the sparing one, and to win the Games, you have to kill! It’s my angle, and if I go home with three kills, I’ll be an outcast. Not to mention I’ll have left the victor they’d rather have in the arena. I’d rather die a martyr then go home and face the music for leaving the person they want dead in a box.”

“But-” Mumbo protests, but he’s quickly cut off. 

“No buts. I’m giving you a way home and you’re going to take it. You need to go home, Mumbo. That’s the last I’m going to say of it.”

“I- okay.” Mumbo slumps in resignation. He stands and moves to leave. 

“Wait- where are you going?” Grian asks. 

“I need some time. I’ll see you at dinner.” Mumbo says, leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him. 

Weak protests die on Grian’s lips. He figured Mumbo would take it hard- so has he. Part of Grian wants to go home, to leave, to wake up because it’s all just a dream, right? All just a bad, bad nightmare?

Grian falls back onto his bed. His eyelids weigh a thousand pounds, so he finally lets himself fall into uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm sorry it's so short, I'm kinda busy right now (marching band, regular band, 7 other classes, a social life, offhand rejection, auditions for the Shrek the Musical pit orchestra...life is crazy), but again, hopefully chapters can get out more often!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess what? I'm back! My Hermit obsession may have dwindled, but I needed something to do during my Corona-extended Spring Break so I decided to write another chapter. Whether I'm here to stay really depends on a lot of things (but I mean, comments always help lol).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (See end notes for band updates)

Grian awakes groggily. The lights outside his window have come on, and as he looks out, he sees that it’s night time. Briefly, he wonders why he’s awake at night in the Capitol- then it hits him. **  
**

Training. Judging. Burns. Arguments. 

Eventually, Grian wakes up enough to feel hungry. He decides to head out to the main area to see if there’s anything to eat. 

It turns out he’s just in time to see the training scores. Almost instinctively, he sits down next to Mumbo on the couch. Mumbo hands him a plate laden with food before kissing him lightly on the forehead. 

Caesar Flickerman, the voice of the games, appears on the screen. Adorned in green lipstick and eyeshadow, with bright green hair, he looks like he’s dipped his face in slime. 

As usual, he explains the rules before the scores. 

They changed at the eighty-fifth game, into the rules Grian knows today. Fourteen judges each give zero, one, or two points to each contestant. The higher the score a tribute gets, the better the sponsorships. The more attention. 

“And now,” Flickerman states, “the scores of the tributes. First, from District One. Grian Blocksworth, with a score of twenty-five. Mumbo Jumbo, with a score of twenty-five. From District Two, Katie Brown with a score of twenty-six…”

Grian stops paying attention at this point. Shay and Margie are congratulating him and Mumbo. He buries his face into Mumbo’s shoulder, not sure of what he’s hiding from. Matthew and Nolan are bent over a sketchbook- most likely drawings of their interview costumes. 

“And finally, from District Twelve. Lane Lewisa with a score of fifteen, and Wesley Carminchal with a score of twelve. Remember, citizens, to tune in tomorrow night, where we will be interviewing each one of the tributes! Until then, goodnight Panem!

The anthem blares out the speakers of the television, the seal of Panem blazoned on the screen. 

“You heard him, your interviews are tomorrow. You two had best get sleep.”

Grian mumbles an agreement through his last mouthful of mashed potatoes. He and Mumbo stand and head towards their bedrooms. 

In the doorway of Grian’s bedroom, Mumbo pauses to kiss him. There’s almost a bite of desperation in the kiss, leaving Grian breathless. 

Grian pulls aways, feels Mumbo’s breath ghosting over his neck. He laughs. “Silly Mumbo, you can’t leave marks now. You know Matthew and Nolan will kill us.”

Mumbo laughs too. “Makeup exists, you know.”

Grian smiles sadly and pulls Mumbo to himself. “So you’re okay with going home?”

“I’m not okay with it, but I understand. I’ll do it.”

~~~

It’s been a day. 

First, Margie and Shay are gone in the morning- something about Trinity’s mysterious ‘heart attack’. 

Then, Grian and Mumbo head to the roof to find Peacekeepers blocking the exit door of the elevator. Not wanting a fight, they decide to just head back down. 

They find some old tapes of past Games in their rooms, so they spend a day casually pursuing them. Oddly enough, there are no tapes of either the seventy-fourth or seventy-fifth games. 

Eventually, Matthew and Nolan arrive to take them to the prep center. Nobody says a word. It’s the last day Grian will spend in safety, which really makes everything surreal. 

The prep team has spent hours on Grian, and he’s not even dressed yet. His face is washed out with white makeup, then drawn back out in an elegant manner. Smoky eyes, thick eyeliner, silver lipstick. Swoops of silver criss-cross his face, neck, and arms. 

Even his nails are done. 

Matthew enters the room, garment bag in one hand. Grian dresses in the suit he holds, which is a black pair of pants and white, silver-swooped jacket. The shirt under the jacket has a ruffle at the neckline.

The jacket has wires all over the inside, twisting together into a single switch on the inside of his wrist. 

“Turn the switch on,” Matthew says once Grian has tied his shoes- simple black dress shoes. Grian does, and the silver starts shimmering. Slowly, the silver changes to a reddish-silver, then more orangish, through yellow. The silver makes its way through the entire rainbow. 

“Wow. That’s incredible.”

“It’s flashy enough to be impressive, but not so much that you’ll draw away from your interview,” Matthew explains. 

Grian flips the switch off, and the suit’s stripe returns to plain silver. 

A bell tolls from somewhere, and Matthew jumps. “It’s time. Just go down the elevator there, and follow the directions they give you. You got this.”

Grian smiles, then steps into the empty elevator. The doors close and he’s alone.

~~~

The lights, the noise, the smell is almost too much, even backstage. Everything seems strange and detached. Even Caesar Flickerman’s green hair never wavers throughout each tribute’s interview. 

Eight tributes have gone, and now it’s Grian’s turn. Kamal, the boy from District 7 who’s surely on drugs, went right before him, so the crowd isn’t expecting much. He turns on the suit’s switch, then enters the stage. 

“Grian Blocksworth, of District One!” Caesar crows. 

The lights are even brighter, the crowd even louder. Grian holds up a hand to acknowledge the crowd, and they quiet. 

“Welcome to the Capitol, Grian. This must seem familiar to you, being from District One, yes?”

“You could say that. It’s certainly an experience being among all these different people.”

“Oh, it must be! What impressed you the most since you’ve gotten here?”

“I would say the warm welcome the Capitol has given.”

“We do our best. Right?” Caesar looks towards the crowd, and they roar with approval. 

“Now Grian,” Caesar says, and the crowd hushes, “both you and your boyfriend are in the games, and you volunteered. Why?”

“I had to give Madison a chance.”

“Oh, of course. Poor girl. Why do you think nobody else volunteered? You are in District One, so dying in the games is an honor, yes?”

“Yes, it’s an honor. I honestly don’t know why nobody else volunteered. Perhaps I was unaware of something- I never have been in the popular crowd.”

“Perhaps. Well, you must be popular now- your training score was high, and you’ve got one of the highest winning percentages- second only to your partner.”

“Oh, of course Mumbo has the highest winning percentage! He’s incredible.”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that because he’s your boyfriend?” Grian is sure that Caesar only means it as a playful jab, but he’ll run with it the literal way instead. 

“I wouldn’t joke about it, Caesar. This is unfortunately life or death.”

The bell rings, and Grian sits down.

Mumbo’s interview goes much better. His affable, self-deprecating humor makes him even more charming to the Capitol. 

Until the very end of the interview. 

“How long have you and Grian been together?” Caesar asks, and Mumbo smiles. 

“Four years. Since we were fourteen.”

“Do you think you would have gotten married someday?”

Mumbo blushes a soft red, and pulls a pair of twigs out of his breast pocket. “Caesar, we already are.”

~~~

Dinner is an extravagant affair. Dish after dish is piled on the table, the heavenly smells building Grian’s appetite beyond what he thought possible. He hurries through scrubbing the makeup off his face and changing out of his costume, then flies back out to the table. 

By the time they reach the dessert, Grian is stuffed. Shay and Margie layer praise on them, but after a while, it becomes stifling. 

They’re reprised finally when the anthem starts. 

Grian finds his interview dry. He never really gave his speech a direction. Oh well, at least he’ll have more sponsors than that District 7 boy. He almost fell off the stage.

Mumbo is much more eloquent, and clearly has an angle in mind. 

When he drops the marriage bombshell, the Capitol doesn’t quiet for several minutes. The anthem plays, and the television goes silent.

Shay and Margie leave almost immediately after the finale of the program, giving both tributes crushing hugs and promises to acquire dozens of sponsorships. 

Matthew and Nolan leave a few moments later with heartfelt thanks. Both are grateful to the pair for allowing them to be creative. For being an amazing introduction to the world of the Games. 

And they leave. For the first time in almost a week, Grian and Mumbo are alone. 

In the morning, they’ll be separated. They won’t have each other anymore. Only one of them will ever go home. 

With that, Grian lets Mumbo pull him into his bedroom, lets himself sink into a reality where there is no Games. Maybe, just for a night, he can pretend it’s alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Our band won at championships and beat an open-class band! (we're a 1A band)  
> 2\. Played percussion, flute, and piccolo for Shrek the Musical at my school which was fun.  
> 3\. Joined winter drumline, am playing bass number 3. Our show is called Primary, and it's about primary colors. My crush? Playing bass 2. Also we got dead last at the last two competitions.  
> 4\. Did NaNoWriMo and only got like 25000 words  
> 5\. All my performances for band got postponed indefinitely and school got cancelled. In a time span of 24 hours. Man, Thursday sucked.
> 
> Also, I go by Sam and they/them pronouns now. 
> 
> If you really must, my Tumblr is @addicted-to-percussion (mineblr is @addicted-to-mineblr), my Insta is @thatwgigeek, and my Wattpad is @thatwgigeek


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapter, but we had to bridge the gap between the pre-Games and the Games. 
> 
> (Putting this one in my Corona Time series bc I may finish it during my time off of school- who knows when this will end.)

A soft knock sounds on the door, pulling Grian from the depths of sleep. 

Where is he?

He is under someone’s arm, he is safe. 

He is in the Capitol, he is not. 

Grian sits up, detangling himself from the mustached man besides him. 

Another knock at the door, this one more insistent. Grian stands with a groan, pulling a robe on. 

At the door is Matthew. 

“It’s time.”

Grian nods in understanding. 

Before he leaves, he turns. Mumbo looks so peaceful, sleeping there.

He feels like he should say something, but he has no idea what. 

Grian settles for tucking Mumbo in just a little tighter and giving him a kiss on the forehead. 

Hopefully, Grian will never see him again.

The hovercraft ride is silent. Grian really doesn’t have anything to say- why would he? Speculation is useless at this point. Whatever arena he gets dumped into, it will kill him. 

He’s not going to go out silently, that’s for sure. He’s going to die in the most loud and drawn out way possible- just to rub it in the faces of the Gamemakers. 

Maybe he’ll start a rebellion. Who knows?

When the hovercraft gets closer, the windows go dark. Matthew is sketching in a notebook next to Grian, so Grian looks over his shoulder. 

“For next year.”

Grian nods. 

He’s insignificant, really. Just another tribute in the machine of the Games. Just another career tribute from District One. 

The hovercraft lands. Grian and Matthew get out, following a pair of Peacekeepers to the launch room. 

Matthew tosses the clothing packet to Grian. Inside are boxers, loose black pants, an undershirt, a black long sleeved shirt, a dark green jacket, and black running shoes and socks. 

Grian pulls on the clothing. It fits perfectly, because of course it does. He puts the bracelet around his left wrist. 

After that, there’s really not much else to do. Grian picks at a round ring of dough the Capitol calls a bagel. 

A bell rings from somewhere, and Grian steps into the tube. Matthew claps him on the shoulder. No words need be spoken.

The glass between them swishes closed and the floor starts to rise. 

For a moment, the light temporarily blinds Grian. He blinks the brightness away until his eyes adjust, then he looks around. 

The arena is divided into four quadrants, with the Cornucopia in the middle. A wintery mountain makes up one quadrant, with an autumn forest next to it. A summer glade is next, with Grian standing in the spring meadow quadrant. 

Mumbo is four spots to Grian’s left. Grian tries not to make eye contact. Instead, he looks to the Cornucopia. 

The famous voice of Claudius Templesmith counts down from ten. Grian prepares himself to run.

The gong rings out.

Let the games begin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we are at the mercy of the simulator! Format for future chapters will look like this: Basic recap in notes, day, fallen, night, then in the end notes, I'll put the whole official simulator results. 
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated :)


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